


The Ordeal of the Bier

by estike



Category: El Japón - Takarazuka Revue
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:02:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23938096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estike/pseuds/estike
Summary: The Ordeal of the Bier is a medieval practice, based on the belief that upon the touch of the dead body by their murderer, it would procure a reaction, causing the blood of the murdered to flow.Desperate to be taught by the only master he looks up to, Elias will go at any lengths to secure a place in his life. Even if it means not letting him have his own wedding night.
Relationships: Catalina/Harumichi/Elias, Kamata Harumichi/Elias
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	The Ordeal of the Bier

**Author's Note:**

> I was looking at Jenő Gyárfás's painting "Tetemrehívás" (Ordeal of the Bier) the other day, and my fascination with that painting and the concept behind it somehow led to all this.

Elias does not let them have their wedding night. It is not that he would purposefully sabotage it as part of some evil scheme he cooked up. Not at all. And yet it is difficult to spend your wedding night in affectionate bliss when someone else is already peacefully dozing off on top of your bed. 

“Oh,” Catalina says when she notices the mop of mouse-brown hair, sprawled across the pillow that should belong to her. 

Elias is snoring, and peacefully so.

“It is not that tonight was timely anyway,” Harumichi says, trying to salvage whatever is salvageable. “There should be many free rooms around the inn. I should just go.” 

“We could wake him up,” Catalina thinks. “Or not, and charge him for the night tomorrow.” 

He does not feel entitled to Catalina’s room, however, nor does he feel entitled to this night with her. If anything, Elias snuggled up in the bed that is soon to be called theirs feels more like a sign brought to them by destiny than a simple inconvenience. 

Harumichi always had an inclination to do his best in order to fulfil any expectation that was posed to him, no matter how small or great it was. It is also in the nature of his fate that he would be unable to do so, beyond his own control, beyond his will. 

At times like this, he can find peace with that. At other times, he would lament it endlessly, as if lamenting was not the very act itself that could turn one’s sorry lot in life to those epic tragedies some chronicles tell us about. 

Catalina draws the door close behind her. “I wonder how he got inside.”

“The doors of the inn need to always be open by law,” Harumichi repeats something he heard from her before. “Your quarters are connected to the inn.” 

“That much is true. The doors may be open, but we hardly provide lodging free of charge. Especially not to Don Ferdinando’s son.” 

“I do not know if it is his enemies or his son, who hate Don Ferdinando more.” 

Catalina nods and answers curtly, before retreating to a free chamber for the night. “It is good then, that hating Don Ferdinando is not a contest.” 

Underwhelming, for a wedding night, no matter where one looks at it from. He is not one to blame others for the odd pathways life can lead one down on, although this time it is hard to deny that most of the night’s misfortunes can be traced back to Elias. He stole a bedroom, after all.

The next morning, oblivious to the turn last night took, the servants at the inn are enjoying a simple breakfast. The girls are too busy arguing over something minor (or Alejandro again), so they barely give any attention to the newly married couple. For the better. 

Most of the tables are already cleared up by the time Elias finally finds his way downstairs. Catalina turns her palm towards him and she makes sure to set the rules clearly and firmly. 

“Good morning. No breakfast without payment for the night first.”

Elias’s neck sinks deep between his shoulders, but he reaches into his pocket for some coins that he then sheepishly places on her palm. If he understands that he is not wanted here, he does not show awareness of it at all. 

“After breakfast, we can start,” Elias announces and finds himself comfortable seating between Haru and Shizu.

Both of the girls look at him with slight disgust, then make a point of moving a few inches away on the bench. He must have already forgotten the many intricate and cruel ways he threatened to kill Haru for peeping before. 

“Sorry, what can we start after breakfast?” Catalina asks him in return, in that sharp tone she often uses. Calling her mistress at those times would come only naturally to anyone. 

“The lessons.” Elias vaguely gestures towards Harumichi. Which, he does not like at all. “With him. I want to be worthy to pick up the sword again.”

“I said you still had a lot to learn. I did not say, however, that you should learn from me.” There are perhaps only a few other things in the world that could evoke a greater disaster. “Think for yourself and act for yourself. Let the teachings of the sword come to you naturally.”

Elias hangs his head. In many ways, he is still just a spoiled child, too used to the world catering to all his interests and desires. Elias would always be the first one to insult his own father whenever he met Harumichi, but that does not mean he wasn’t used to his pampering and flattery all the same. Like a kitten, he demands attention and worship, while strongly denying the fact that he ever needed anyone to do that. 

Elias stands up and exclaims in an overly affected manner. “You are the only one who can make me hold a sword again!”

“Don’t hold a sword, then,” Haru suggests, as she begins to clean off the last table. “If it was for this miser, he’d never let me hold a sword either. Not sure why you’d deserve more.” 

Although many simply play it, swordsmanship is not a game. And the path towards learning it is an intimate one between master and disciple. There is a reason why so many self-proclaimed students are harshly turned down at the doors of their masters of choice. In love, sometimes no match is a match. In swordsmanship, without the harmony between master and student, all efforts are fruitless. No teacher would want their next lives to be tainted by an ill-chosen disciple. 

Welcoming a student is no less than accepting their fate to be tied to yours, and agreeing to their actions to become your responsibility. When impulsive, boastful children such as Elias seek out a teacher, one has the consequences to think of. Many, many consequences. 

Harumichi remembers the burden that once came with taking on the impulsive, and not even half as boastful Tokuro. Was that perhaps the first mistake he made that led him so far away from his homeland, in exile? There were times when he would believe so. 

Elias looks at him with pleading eyes. “I want to be a swordsman again. And only you can teach me.” 

“Ask Alejandro.” 

“I went to school with Alejandro. He cannot teach me anything I don’t already know. I said: Only you can be my teacher.” 

Catalina touches his upper arm and invites him outside for a short stroll around the building. They leave Elias behind, standing in the room, without as much as an answer. 

The late morning isn’t humid, and there are no more dewdrops left bouncing on the grass either as they make a circle around the inn, to talk in private. Catalina links their arms and guides him away from the windows - and the peeping eyes that most certainly follow them. 

“What if you agreed to a lesson?” she suggests, in that particular tone of hers that is much more than a suggestion. “Just one, so he would be satisfied.” 

“Swordsmanship is not something you can begin and finish teaching in one lesson. Once you start learning, you will not finish until the day you draw your last breath.” 

Catalina laughs at him. “I know you are a swordsman, so this is an issue close to your heart. But maybe you can give him something he can improve on later by himself. And most importantly, if you give him a bit of what he wants from you, maybe he can finally stop being a nuisance.” 

Of course, common sense, and maybe Alejandro too (who was really not the icon of common sense), would suggest agreeing to a short lesson, then after granting the boy’s wish, send him on his way. But in the way of the sword, there should be no lies. And this, as much as a necessary one, would become nothing more than deceit. 

Seeing that the suggestion only gives Harumichi a headache, Catalina takes a step back from pressuring him. “Well. It has only been a night. Maybe, if you keep refusing him, he will understand sooner or later.” 

Once they return to the building, they are faced with Elias who has barely moved from where they left him. Palms rested on his chest, he shines a hopeful look at Harumichi, hoping that his wife did some good convincing on him.

His hopes are too high, Harumichi thinks. How would Haru react, if he were to teach the son of the man who enslaved her? By what humans owe to one another, would he be supposed to teach Haru first, if he ever decided that Elias may receive his lessons? 

First and foremost, he needs to follow his own instincts, if he were to seek an answer. Betrayal was in his blood. At least at times, he would think that betrayal was the recurring motif of his life. 

If not anyone else, Harumichi often ends up betraying himself, or whoever he believed he used to be until something pushed him onto yet another unknown path. That is how he betrayed and survived Fujino. That is how he betrayed his lord. That is then, how he betrayed himself. That is how he ended up here, in Spain. That is also how he will betray Haru now, for the beady eyes of a spoiled brat who pleads for a lesson, hungry and desperate. 

“You have conquered me once,” Elias nudges him. “You have all my respect and devotion. Please teach me how to be a real swordsman. It is all I ever wanted to be.” 

Haru places both of her hands on the table, leaning forward. He can feel her eyes pinned to his face. She is inspecting whether he would wince, looking for the smallest opening, the smallest display of weakness. Unfortunately, he has already decided that Elias shall be given an opportunity to improve on himself, based on nothing more but his own yearning for a second chance. Outwardly, however, he is not ready for the storm that comes with admitting such things. 

When one fights Elias, they know that his temperament with the sword is one with Tokuro’s: undeniable talent met with the hasty pride of youth. Many warriors grow out of it, as long as they do not get killed before they would get the chance to do so. With a trustworthy master, they may even surpass their own teacher once. (Harumichi is not really the most trustworthy of instructors.) 

“Will you accept whatever teaching I have for you?”

Elias sucks his lower lip in, already negotiating. “I will listen to what lessons you have.” 

“Will you follow whatever I tell you?”

“As long as it has to do with the sword.”

His eyes flick to Haru for a moment.

Maybe she is looking for any sign of weakness, but she will only find a compromise. If Harumichi were any better with words, he could explain to her that what is happening here is not betrayal. She was a swordsman in her own right, but one that is in need of a different instructor. Someone better, one might argue.

Taking a deep, agitated breath, Harumichi nods. “You will not need your sword. Fetch a wooden one for later this afternoon.” 

When he meets eyes with Catalina, she sends him a smile of approval. Does she believe that this would take care of Elias? Does Harumichi? No. Not really.

If he learned anything from the brief interactions he shared with that boy, it was that nothing would take care of him. Especially not half-measures.

The only way to control those who constantly demand more and more is by ignoring them until they learn how to give up on a frustrating and painful path. And, at times, ignoring them may be just as impossible as granting their every wish. 

They meet outside the inn in the afternoon hours, when the sun still shines strongly. Elias has his hair tied up neatly, which suggests that he made some preparations before coming here, even if they were superficial. He is not a lost cause. He is only young. 

Their duel might have humbled Elias as a swordsman, but it does not change his behaviour when being faced with a man he considers a martial artist. He only wears a wooden sword Catalina graciously lent him and he bounces with all the giddiness in his body that he is unable to control. Fighting still calls on a strange excitement in him that he cannot hide from the outside world. 

One important aspect of swordsmanship is self-control. Or, as some people like to call it: acting. 

“You had studied many techniques at school, from masters I do not know, with a type of sword I have never even taken in my hand,” Harumichi starts his lesson, not wasting his time with useless introductions. That is not what Elias has come for. “When I come at you in a few seconds, I will ask you to forget all of that.” 

Forgetting his place already, Elias succumbs to teasing. “You are scared that the second time around you would be less lucky?” 

“You had your chance to prove yourself to me already. Your tongue will not award you this win, Elias. When you are too preoccupied with trying to conjure whatever technique would be best to use on an opponent, you lose your presence. Techniques are simply there to give form to teaching: the way you use them separates the skilled swordsmen from the ordinary. But focusing too much on executing it perfectly can take away just as much as it can give.”

But Harumichi does not believe in talking too much. Words are truly the last resort to seek understanding between two souls. When master and student are attuned to each other and their sword, words are irrelevant. Words should be irrelevant. 

Despite his warnings, Elias tries to grab memories of his past duels three out of three times. Habits are hard to break, and he is a stubborn boy. He will not try to empty his mind until Harumichi forces him, with attacks so sudden and precise that Elias has no other choice but to defend himself with anything that comes the most naturally to him. It is the only way, at times. 

Elias is brought to tears, by nothing. One cannot expect to top his teacher as the first thing he does. And yet, it seems like this is exactly what he wanted. Even Tokuro did not warm such ambitions close to his chest: and he has never not been a handful. 

“I just want to impress you,” Elias says, hiding his tears behind small sniffles. “By being the best you’ve ever seen or wanted.”

“Have you ever thought about impressing me by doing what I told you to do?” 

“Doing what I was told is boring and predictable. And predictable never impressed anyone.” 

The sun has almost fully set by the time they go inside, with the insects playing some nervous, clicky music around them to fit the mood. Harumichi understands now how different it was to teach Catalina, who has determined herself not to impress others but to improve on herself with whatever means she could. It is truly a gift when a student understands the function of a teacher well enough to stop urging themselves into showing off talents they do not yet possess. 

And so, he knows that Elias will be an immense work. And so, he also knows that it has already been decided.

Elias will not be leaving any time soon. 

***

The inn quietens down by the late hours of the day when the kitchen has been cleaned up, and everyone heads back to their own quarters for the night. Catalina, too, runs her last checks, then takes him by the hand, leading him upstairs.

She smiles, teasing him. “First full day of our union, and you spent the entire afternoon with a boy.”

“On your request.” 

She steps closer, to show that she is by far not angry, and presses the faintest trace of a kiss on his lips, as she emerges on tiptoes. They are in her realm now. Her quarters.

Well, theirs. Since yesterday. 

“Shall we?” she whispers. 

Pressing the door closed with her back against the wood, she makes sure to latch it with a quick movement, so that no intruder would ruin their second night. Second first night. 

She helps him get her out of her bodies and gown, slowly nudging him towards the bed as she abandons her garments on the floor, one by one. Stripped down to her shift, she pushes Harumichi down on the bed, positioning herself in his lap, so she could slightly tower above him. 

Her hair tickles his face. Such a different atmosphere. From everything he is used to. Different clothes. Different fragrance. Even the way the texture of his curly hair feels under his touch is different. As it should be.

He feels much more comfortable with different. 

Catalina’s nose brushes against his, teasing a slow kiss. She graces him with a soft sound as he pulls her closer by the waist, his fingers digging into her skin, exactly where he wants her to be.

Until, there is a thud on the door. Then, a stronger one. Then, a very strong one. 

“Harumichi? The door is closed.”

Catalina hits the bed in frustration a few times, upon realizing that the voice certainly does belong to Elias. 

Harumichi clears his throat. “This is not your room, Elias.”

“I need to get inside. To be with you.” 

The knocking doesn’t stop, and once they realize that it isn’t about to stop until Elias (once again) gets what he wants, Catalina slowly removes herself from his lap. He reluctantly opens the door and talks to the boy who has already darted himself straight into the bed.

“This is not your room.”

He stretches out, taking up the entire right side next to Catalina. “I missed this.” 

Harumichi has seen Catalina angry before, but this time, he is convinced that someone might even die. 

“Your father has an entire estate that is left in your care now. Won’t you kindly sleep there?” 

Unsure about how he should go about it, Harumichi finds some space between the two of them. 

“Oh I loathe that place,” Elias says. “It reminds me of my father. Ostentatious and embarrassing. Right, Harumichi?” 

He turns towards his wife, trying to ignore Elias’s hand on his shoulder. “Do not bring me into this.”

“If there is one thing I can’t fault you for,” Catalina thinks. “That is hating your father. The rest, however...”

“I will be working hard with Harumichi, to become a better swordsman. Oh, and person. I want to impress him.” 

Catalina throws her arms around him, and they try their best to pretend Elias is not there for a moment. He really gets that from his father, no matter how much he hates him. The thing, where he found something he wanted and fought for it teeth and claws until he achieved the desired result. 

Harumichi knows how all of this works. But does he have enough resources and resilience to defend himself from it? When it comes to the sword, Elias is easy to top. What if it comes to his persistence? His behaviour, like a cold-blooded little snake? Working his way into their lives to get whatever he set his mind on. 

“Goodnight,” Elias murmurs into his back. 

He wakes with Catalina in his arms, and Elias on the other side of the bed, peacefully dozing off in the morning light that filters through the window. In this light, his hair almost seems fair. 

He cannot contemplate that for too long, as Catalina nuzzles against him, deliberately ignoring the fact that they are not alone. They kiss until Elias starts stretching next to them, slowly coming to his senses. Catalina rolls her eyes.

“Well, get out of bed, both of you now,” she orders. 

Soon enough, they would all be downstairs for breakfast, joined by the girls. Out of their small party, only Elias looks satisfied, shining with outlandish happiness. 

Catalina pulls him away before they would go on about their day. “He really needs to understand that our bed is ours,” she simply says.

“I think he understands very well. He just does not particularly care.” 

She takes a deep breath. “Well, for his sake and ours, he will need to be faced with reality, as soon as possible.” 

Harumichi nods, and yet, deep inside he recognizes the signs of defeat. He knows the signs of giving up very well, even within himself. For a moment, he faces it, as one cannot do much else than greet his fate and embrace it. Let the whirlpool swallow him, once again. 

“He hasn’t made a single bond in this world. And that is against his will,” Catalina thinks, as she looks back at Elias, left alone at the long table with his breakfast by the girls. “It is a lonely life if you think about it.”

“You’re wrong.” In the distance, Elias dusts off the table he is about to eat from. “Do you forget the bond shared between master and disciple?” 

“Surely, that came to life by force.”

“Before destiny, such things matter little.” 

Man is born with so many ties binding him to people, he couldn’t even count even if he wanted to. These bonds are established long before they are conceived and will continue for far longer than their eventual deaths. Elias may not want to be related to his father, but it will not change the fact that they were bonded with blood. Harumichi may not have wanted to concern himself with the boy, but for better or for worse, the boy chose him as his master, bringing them together.

All his life, Harumichi has been lamenting the strange forks in the path of his life that fate nudged him towards. Today, he welcomes Elias in the inn’s backyard with resignation. 

Man is sometimes only a tool in another man’s life, providing a bridge towards something better that may await him.

“Good morning, Harumichi.” He shines brighter than a thousand suns as he reaches for his wooden sword already, ready to get in position. “I’m good to go!”

“No, you are not. Let us calm our minds for a second. Arrive here, at this place.” 

“I’m here.”

“Your mind is somewhere above the clouds. Close your eyes, take a few deep breaths, and come down to the earth with me.” 

Diligently enough, Elias closes his eyes and mimics Harumichi’s deep, regulated breathing as much as he can. His eyes are closed as well, but he can feel Elias’s presence. He knows that at least he is not breaking the rules. For now.

“Take some time arrive at this place first. You cannot practice if you aren’t present. And, it goes without saying, you cannot fight, if you are not present.”

“What if I don’t have time?” Elias retorts. 

“You always get enough time, you only need to use it wisely.” 

And it is true. The moment Elias appears less fluttery, his concentration improves immediately. He has a lot of talent, for sure. But only for someone who gets too drunk on his own skills, and forgets to practice humble manners. He has seen pride kill before. And for it is not a rare sight, he anticipates seeing pride kill again. 

As his master, he needs to make sure Elias will not be the one murdered. And also, as his master, he needs to make sure to get all the lessons into that thick, lovesick head of his, before it is too late. Be it with words, or actions. 

So just like yesterday, they practice well into the afternoon, until Elias is in tears again. Harumichi mercilessly beats him as many times as he needs to if it means some humility would find him at the end of the road. Yet, when he cries it is not from physical pain but frustration. 

When asked what his problem is, he simply sniffles. “I need to have you believe that I am the best. I can’t do that if I am so easy to defeat.” 

Harumichi takes the wooden sword from him and urges the boy to get inside. 

“Your opponent - when paying enough attention to you - can tell exactly when you are too desperate to impress them. Let go of all the urges that do not serve you, and victory will be a step closer.” 

With that as his last lesson for the day, Harumichi leaves the boy on his own to think for a while. Whether with or without reason, he does not touch upon Catalina’s request. It is of Elias’s character that when he is requested to refrain from something, he’d insist on it even more passionately. The best course of action is letting him get bored and forget. 

With Don Ferdinando removed, guests keep pouring back into the inn, leaving much less free time for Catalina and the girls. Harumichi spends the rest of his afternoon helping out with as much as he could, while simultaneously avoiding any further discussion regarding Elias. 

So, when he requests entry yet again, catching Catalina with her hair all tangled up, and her shift hanging off her left shoulder, all Harumichi can do is attempt an apologetic smile. Elias shines, as he takes his favourite place. 

“In school,” he says, completely oblivious of the fact that he interrupted something yet again, “I never got to share my room with anyone. Everyone was scared of me.”

He props himself up on his elbow and stares deeply at Catalina. “Well, now they are not afraid. They just hate me.”

“Please. Hate is a strong word.” Harumichi softly presses his thumb into his wife’s palm, trying to calm her. “I do not hate you. You are just vexing. Might I remind you that it was not a long time ago that you decided to threaten my life and sniff my hair at the same time? It was disturbing.”

“Well! Your hair smelled nice. If that amounts to anything.” 

“No. It does not.” 

Considering the conversation finished, Catalina beckons Harumichi closer, so at the least, they can fall asleep in an embrace. Elias, however, still wants to think out loud.

“I wonder. Does my hair smell nice, Harumichi?” 

“How would I know?” 

A few seconds later something towers above the both of them. A mop of hair tickles both Catalina and Harumichi’s face as the boy tries to give them a sample.

“Here,” he says. “What do you think?”

Catalina tries to softly push him back where he came from. “I think it is itchy. Thank you.” 

Elias groans, lamenting the fact that his attempt at fishing for compliments ended in failure. Then, he settles down on the bed, with his back against Harumichi’s. They’d think that finally they can sleep, at least.

“Harumichi,” he says, suddenly, instead of saying his final goodnights. “Tell me about back home. What were your swordsmanship schools like in Japan?” 

Although reluctantly, Harumichi starts speaking once his wife urges him to do so as well. He does not consider himself a good storyteller, nor does he believe that the way he learned the way of the sword is any interesting - and his point is only proven when Elias dozes off in the middle, making small sounds as he enters the realm of dreams.

Yet, from that time onwards, he’d always ask to hear from a world so far away and alien to him. 

“He just wants to belong somewhere,” Catalina observes quietly, with a hint of sadness in her voice. “I just wish that somewhere was not our bed.” 

Harumichi absent-mindedly plays with her curls, rolling them up against his finger, then slowly releasing them. 

“Maybe you should give him some lessons too,” he suggests, as he is slowly being drawn into a dream too. “It is not his swordsmanship, but the thought behind it that needs the most refinement.” 

“Yes.” Catalina’s voice grows darker, gradually. “And that is when I will start charging for his tuition.” 

***

The next morning Harumichi has some time for himself, as Catalina decides to take some time and sacrifice it on Elias. With customers returning to the inn, the place is livelier than it used to be: and everyone is flooded with tasks. It does not take much convincing for Elias to tag along with the girls, and more or less diligently try to follow the mistress’s orders, while doing the bare minimum to keep the inn in order. 

“I didn’t know the inn was that much work!” he complains a few hours later. “My father did you a favour, blocking people from staying here.”

“I could hardly even call this a busy day.”

Elias drags out a sigh. “I hate it.”

“Good. Then you can leave.” 

He protests with his whole body in the very moment he hears those dreadful words. “No! I don’t hate it that much. I’ll endure.”

Catalina murmurs something about that being a pity under her breath but lets the moment pass by. Later, they watch him have a small clash with Haru about a misplaced broom that she allegedly tried to trip the boy up with.

“His heart is not rotten at least,” Catalina thinks. “He just wants attention.” 

“It is not like his father didn’t give him attention.”

Catalina absent-mindedly wipes her hands in her skirt. “That is not the attention he wants, though. He is used to getting everything he wants easily, but what he really wants is to fight for it. To prove that he really deserves it.” 

It is a strange thing. Does he believe, secretly and deep inside, that he is not deserving of anything he pines for? It reminds Harumichi of a time - that was closer to him than he’d like to admit -, when he himself believed that the life he lived should not have been awarded to him. Surely, it is not an unrelatable state of mind. 

For a while, life continues in such a manner. In the mornings, Catalina and the girls spend some time working on Elias, albeit reluctantly at times. What Elias needs to learn is the spirit of the swordsman: humble, yet self-assured. Having no expectations, yet open to everything. Forms only exist for us to analyze and deconstruct them, finding our own voice between the strict regulations. 

One needs to look deep within himself to find the person he really is - and when doing so yields no efforts, he needs to talk with others and let them help in discovering his true colours. Through listening, agreements, and disagreements. 

Then, in the afternoon, Harumichi would turn his attention towards him, just one-on-one. Although Elias seems to be getting better and better at letting go each day, without fail, he’d end every afternoon frustrated and on the verge of tears. 

“If you do not want me to see you like this, perhaps you should consider looking for a new teacher,” Harumichi suggests to him once. “Alejandro understands your side well.”

Saying such things would only upset Elias, however. “No! I don’t want Alejandro. I will not accept anyone else.”

And so, he will not accept another bed to sleep at night either. Which is the cause of a much bigger conflict. A wedding night delayed by one, two, three days is not such a horrible event. 

One, two, three weeks, however. 

Tired of living according to Elias’s whims, one day Catalina forbids him to open the door, no matter what happens. They listen to the thuds on the door for what it feels like an eternity until suddenly the sound disappears.

Catalina sighs. “Finally.” 

However, her fingers barely have enough time to victoriously tug at his shirt. Nor do her lips have enough time to properly find his and deepen their kiss. Somehow, there is a sharp knock at the window. An endless, sharp, annoying sound. Not even Catalina has enough in her to ask why anymore. 

Once Harumichi opens the window for him, Elias climbs through, finding a tight grip on his shoulders. “How lucky that I made it here. I thought for a moment that you were asleep already.” 

Looking at his wife, Harumichi expects her locks to turn into venomous snakes at any given moment now, not out of hate, but helpless frustration.

“We were not sleeping,” she says, in a measured tone. Yet, behind the strong stance she is taking, Harumichi can already sense the same acceptance that washed over him weeks before. 

It is not Catalina’s curls that turn into venomous snakes, after all. 

After stripping down and leaving his clothes on the floor, Elias nestles himself beside Harumichi, his favourite place. “Nice.”

“You are just like the stray kittens who used to wander around the inn until we took them in,” Catalina thinks. “Always demanding attention, yet I cannot stay mad at them for too long because they have no self-awareness.” 

He is tempted to wait until Elias is sound asleep, then simply drag Catalina’s shift up, pulling her leg over himself. It wouldn’t be difficult. Nor unheard of. Yet, he still lets her fingers play on his chest until she is lulled into sleep. It is something he has done in a past life, or the current, that brings these struggles before him. Just like the emperor, who as a frog in a past life, was slain by his own vassal. Our fates are too interwoven with past and future for our simple minds to fully understand. 

So, what else can he do: other than throwing himself into the whirlpool? 

Maybe it is wrong, after all. Relying too much on the illusion that we have no control. He has all the control during their lessons, after all. He knows how to gain control in a bout: how to use his sword not to hurt, but to protect. Is he then lying to himself, when he pretends to put himself in the hands of fate? 

The morning starts slower than usual. He wakes with an odd frustration that he is unable to rid himself of all through the morning, way into the afternoon. Perhaps Catalina’s vexed state transferred to him, for she is left presenting calmer than she has ever been for the past few weeks. 

She claps until they are awake, fresher than ever. “Boys! The sun’s up already. Elias, you and I have work to do.” 

Truly, she talks to him as if he was only a small pet. Adorable, and above all, a little silly. 

“This needs to end, one way or another,” Harumichi says when they have a final moment together before she would follow Elias downstairs.

Kindly, she presses a hand on his chest, and a kiss on his lips. 

“Oh, but it will. I understand now: he truly is a kitten.” 

But what Harumichi understands is that last night, somehow, the two of them swapped their stances on Elias. 

It isn’t disappointment, nor anger washing over him when they stand face to face once again, wooden swords unsheathed and ready to fight - and he realizes that Elias will never make the decision of abandoning his old practices. Not because he is unable to. Perhaps he doesn’t even know yet. 

But because despite wanting to impress Harumichi so much, he is exactly where he wants to be. And he is scared of losing this little, fleeting connection he finally got his hands on. 

“Today, let us try something different,” Harumichi suddenly decides. “You knew this before, but a fight does not stop when you disarm someone. Let us not stop there.”

Elias, by nature, is too focused on swords for his own good. Harumichi has known this, and yet for some reason, he kept feeding his interest. Partially, because Elias could not ready himself to learn more about the swordless technique. While insisting on wanting to be better, he nested himself at the same, unchanging position.

He leads him to cry afternoon to afternoon, yet he thinks he’s still too gentle. A good teacher knows when he needs to go rough on his disciple to make him come to his senses and awaken him to his full potential. 

And perhaps… perhaps there is a small part in him that would take it upon himself to repay some of what Elias was due. 

That day, he does not let Elias take the slightest break. That day, he wants to make Elias taste true failure for once. Not unlike during their first bout - but much more poignant, when it comes from someone already familiar. 

He knocks the wooden sword out of his hands several times, not even giving him enough space for breath to pick up the sword again, and defend himself. Elias is not free until he realizes by himself that the only way to stop this is either by begging or defeating him. 

And if he wants to defeat him, he shall do it with his bare hands. He shall cheat. Turn to every last resort his desperate brain could cook up. 

Proving himself to be a worthy disciple, Elias plays along. 

Tears may be streaming from his face, but he finds a way to drag Harumichi down on his level to the ground, losing his sword. 

Finally, he is the same Elias he has first met. Goal-oriented, ambitious, reckless. For a moment he is not scared of losing everything he obtained in this fleeting world. Perhaps, for he thinks he has already lost it, when their routine switched up with no apparent reason. 

No matter how Harumichi tries to pin him down, he always finds a way. He’d squeeze. Struggle. Punch. Scratch. Even bite. He finally gets to hold him down when both of them are exhausted, trying to catch their breath. 

The fight disappears from Elias slowly, through long moments. At first, his mind still tries to find an escape, a secret route to win. Then, he succumbs to the arms holding him into place, beginning to realize that his entire body is locked down. He is beaten. All the way through, despite trying his hardest. As always, he’s softly weeping his tears of frustration. 

Holding him firmly, so he would not attempt any final tricks, Harumichi asks. “Did you understand?”

Elias’s heart beats loudly against his chest, it is almost like feeling his own heartbeats. 

“Do you understand, what part of you I was trying to show you?” 

Elias does not answer, only breathes against his skin, and slowly relaxes his muscles, entirely giving in to defeat. Then, still breathless, he catches Harumichi’s lips with his. 

At that moment, although faintly, but Harumichi realizes that it is him who has been defeated. Defeated by not Elias, but the circumstances he led himself into. The whirlpool, sucking him deeper into trouble he thought he had escaped before. 

If only last night hasn’t left him frustrated, and hungry for more. If only he did not set his mind on punishing Elias for never failing to ask for more, more, and more, no matter how much they already gave of themselves to him.

Harumichi rolls them over, so he’d be above him, a hand finding its way under the boy’s shirt. In more ways than one, he is much more used to this than being married to a woman. 

The only thing that makes him come to his senses is Elias’s voice, using the space for breath to talk.

“Harumichi, I’ve never…” 

It is needless to say more. Harumichi might have been spirited away for the past minutes, but the boy’s voice pulls him back to their real world. 

“What were you trying to do?” he asks, unsure what he is hoping to hear.

Does he want to know that Elias distracted and defeated him with a kiss? Like a murderer, luring their victim into a cunning trap before mercilessly finishing them. Or does he want to hear something else? 

“I… you asked me if I understood, and I. I thought I did. I did, didn’t I?” 

His cheeks suddenly feel like icy cold waves splashed against them, cooling down too rapidly. There is a strange quietness around them, although his ears are ringing. He feels murdered. 

One Harumichi - another Harumichi he believed he had been - was murdered.

“I told you, let us not stop at disarming our opponent. I did not tell you to kill me.” 

Elias tries to arrange his shirt, patting it down. He wonders if it is really the dust he cares about, or he simply needs a distraction, so he does not have to look at Harumichi.

“But she’s only your wife!”

They finally exchange a glance. “I married Catalina because I liked her.” 

Overcoming his own greatest failure, he searches for the wooden swords, scattered around in the grass under them. Then, he quietly, but decidedly says. “Now, go.”

Perhaps realizing that there is nothing to save the situation, Elias does as he is told. 

***

The afternoon is heavy, and so is the evening. Invisible, yet pressing down on his shoulders. Why is betrayal following him everywhere? 

Looking back, he sees exactly how it all happened, but understanding one’s mistakes does not do anything to erase them. He returns to the yard with a wooden sword alone a while later, to clear his head. Nothing forces him to calm his mind as much as holding a sword in hand. The teaching was within him: be open to anything that may come and go your way, without any expectations. In life, that is easy to forget.

At night, neither Catalina or Elias is in their bedroom, which unsettles him. She must know already - and if she does know already, there is no way for him to properly seek an apology. 

Drowning in scenarios he made up in his own mind, Catalina finally returns to the room, with a wide smile on her face and Elias on her arm. 

“Well, come now. I had to look for him all evening. Can you believe?” She nudges Elias with a mischievous smile. “When we expressly wanted to spend the night with you. How could we even sleep when you’re not here?” 

Right. The easiest way to tame a misbehaving kitten is by letting it believe that you want the exact opposite of what you truly desire. When you don’t want it to eat your food, the first thing you must do is kindly offer it. That should take out the fun. If Elias thought they were desperate to have him each night, he would grow bored of intruding. That is, at least, what Catalina must have been thinking. 

But - catching the glimmer in Elias’s gaze -, the kitten has a lot more to worry about tonight. 

Catalina looks from one of them to the other. “Well? What’s wrong? Come on, boys.”

She gently pushes Harumichi down on the bed, oblivious. All the time he wished Elias was a more diligent student, he should have been a better one himself as well. 

Harumichi takes his place in the middle as he normally would, with Catalina on his left and Elias on his right. But this time, there is something different. Even if Elias would hesitantly lean into a touch as he always used to, his first instinct is to get away from his murderer.

“Shall we listen to another story from Japan as we always do?” Catalina asks, and her voice is the cheeriest it has been in weeks. “Shall we do something else?” 

Harumichi suspects that there is a script for whatever plan his wife came up with, although he is unsure he’d like to participate. It does not take a lot of observation for Catalina to see that something has changed since this morning, and she is quick to point it out. Sitting close to the edge of the bed, with her legs under her, she observes the two of them. 

“Right, why won’t we cuddle up, as we are listening to Harumichi?” she offers. “Go on, now, Elias. You always do it anyway. Cuddle up.” 

He moves towards Harumichi, wistfully, but is deterred by his stare. 

“Did something happen? Go on, I said it’s fine. Cuddle up to him, when I tell you.” 

Elias does not hesitate anymore, and presses a cheek against his, throws a leg over his knee, an arm around his belly. Closer than he’s ever been, unable to detach himself from something he has experienced once already. His nose is pressed into Harumichi’s neck, inhaling his scent deeply, and teasing him with each exhale. 

Just like a cat, just like a murderer. Echoing in his whole body, transferred through their touch, Harumichi can feel the boy’s heartbeats as they beat against his chest. And just like a dead body, when touched by his murderer once again, blood rushes and secrets are revealed. He has been murdered, and his killer was found out. 

“I see,” Catalina remarks, with the void in his voice. “I see what happened.”

“Catalina…”

He would try to explain, but her index finger lands on his lips, silencing him. “I do not want to hear it.”

She nuzzles closer to him, taking the mirror position of Elias on the other side. Cheek rubbing against his, she sighs to herself deeply. Harumichi has no idea where to look. 

“I should have seen what this ordeal was leading up to.”

With a finger finding its way down Harumichi’s chest, she catches Elias’s hand. “Well, Elias. Will you then help me?”


End file.
